greeting old nightmares with new eyes
by morgana's mooncalf
Summary: 1999, Seventh Year. During Potions Class, Harry finds himself having to confront (comparatively) old nightmares. One-Shot/Drabble.


Harry absent-mindedly walked into Potions class, Ron and Hermione talking by his side, thinking of Quidditch and Ginny and the DADA homework he still hadn't completed. That is, until the sight of a cauldron emitting a horribly familiar green glow brought him to a sudden stop.

He felt his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest as his breath caught. From what felt like a great distance he heard Hermione's anxious voice asking, 'Harry? Are you alright?' and could vaguely see what he thought could have been Ron's concerned face.

But Harry couldn't answer. His hands started to shake.

He could almost smell the musty salt-water in his nostrils - hear Albus Dumbledore's screams, all the more terrifying because he'd never heard his Headmaster so distressed or so scared - see the inferi scrambling over the rocks, rotting flesh hanging off in chunks - the green glow of the potion reflected in Dumbledore's faraway eyes -

He blinked several times, trying to shake off the feelings of horror, terror, grief that swamped him. Taking hesitant steps forwards, he peered into the cauldron. The green liquid swirled before his eyes, his pale face reflected up at him. 'Harry?' Slughorn asked, approaching him.

'I…..I….' He still couldn't speak properly, so he coughed, trying to clear his blocked throat.

Slughorn seemed perturbed and even a little worried. 'Have you seen this potion before?'

Harry couldn't stop his voice from shaking very slightly when he responded, his voice sombre and serious, 'Yes.' Hermione turned to him, a questioning look in her eyes as if to say '_What's going on?'_ Ron seemed similarly confused.

'Why didn't you destroy it? You _must_ know how horrible the effects are, sir!' Harry asked, feeling his agitation grow. Trying and failing to calm down, breathing roughly, he continued, 'This causes _unendurable pain_…and…and….' his voice trailed off slightly, '...it's one of the worst things I've ever come across.' He felt Hermione place a calming hand on his shoulder, and he leaned into her touch.

'We found this in a vault with countless Dark artefacts. I requested to keep it - I believe that NEWT students, some of whom will go on to become Aurors, have to know all that Dark magic (of which Potions is, of course, a part) is capable of.' Slughorn said, sounding horrified at the suggestion that Harry had seen the potion before. Turning to the rest of the class, he called, 'Everyone, turn to page 405 and follow the instructions to create a Calming Draught.' Ron and Hermione gave Harry worried looks but went to their seats, where they began to talk softly.

Slughorn strode across the room, beckoning for Harry to follow. 'Did someone force you to _drink_ the Draught of Despair?' he asked, lowering his voice. Harry understood then that Slughorn didn't want to pry the details from him, but was simply concerned for his safety and wellbeing. He shook his head mutely, to which Slughorn continued, 'Was this something to do with the Horcruxes?'

'Yes, Professor.' Harry responded. There was…there was one at the bottom of a basin filled with the potion. Well, that's what we thought at the time. Turned out it was a decoy,' he added, in an attempt to justify his reaction to Slughorn without the Potions Master asking too many questions. All he wanted right now was to return to Ron and Hermione and forget about the damn potion - _the Draught of Despair, had Slughorn called it? Well, that was fitting _\- and the memories it had dredged up.

'We…?' Slughorn asked.

Harry paused, unsure of how much he should reveal. He still hadn't properly spoken about that awful incident in the cave to anyone, although he suspected that Ron and Hermione were intensely curious about it. 'I…I went with Professor Dumbledore, sir. It was the night he...he died,' Harry continued, not meeting Slughorn's gaze. 'He drank it, sir. Can I get back to work now? I've really been struggling with Calming Draughts,' he said, almost desperately, his voice trembling again. Slughorn nodded, looking rather shocked, and Harry practically ran across the room, back to his seat with Ron and Hermione.

They shared glances when he sat down, which told him that they'd been listening to his conversation, possibly with Extendable Ears. 'Mate…' Ron trailed off, unsure of what to say. Hermione just pulled him close, and Ron slung an arm around Harry's shoulder.

The trio stayed like that, two of them sheltering the third, until the bell rang and they could escape from the potion and all the horror and pain that came with it.


End file.
